Even If It’s Depraved - Chapter 8

With blunt fingertips, he kept pressing and rubbing against her tender flesh.

“Your husband is watching the examination. You should behave more like a modest virgin.”

“Ah—nngh…!”

Her body, already overwrought with tension and arousal, took even the whisper as stimulation. The moment his warm breath touched her ear, Brunhilde’s fluids overflowed again. He parted her slick entrance with the first knuckle of his index finger, making a wet, squelching sound—then wiped the fluid on her mound and stopped his relentless teasing.

“I had my suspicions, Father, but as I thought, it’s difficult to verify virginity with mere finger play.”

Franz released her thighs and straightened his back.

Just as she tried to close her legs, he wedged his knee firmly between them and unbuckled his belt.

A length of leather slipped from his trousers like a whip, falling onto the white sheet. His loosened lower garments slid down past his thighs like shed skin. His e***t c**k stood between his legs like a blade.

“Surely the surest way to confirm a woman’s chastity is to f**k her.”

“Mmph—mmph!”

“Do not worry, Father. I shall ascertain my stepmother’s virtue without fail.”

Ignoring the gagged fury of Duke Brandt, Franz gripped Brunhilde’s legs, lifting them from the thighs together with her b******s. He grabbed a discarded white cloth and spread it beneath her, smoothing out the wrinkles, a gesture that felt almost mocking. As if laughing at the impossibility of virgin blood.

“Now then.”

The hot tip of his c**k pressed against her entrance.

“Let us see if your hole can prove its purity with blood, Mother.”

The swollen head rubbed against her tight opening, slowly pushing inward. The moment the tip was fully inside, it sliced through her slick, wet flesh and drove deep in one thrust.

“Ahhn!”

Her spine tingled as the massive shaft buried itself in her unfamiliar depths. Brunhilde didn’t even realize her own moans—her back arched and trembled.

His shaft was too thick and long for her slender frame, but her inner walls, heated by teasing and caresses, greedily swallowed even the overwhelming intrusion.

Finally, Franz’s fully inserted c**k sank to the root. He leisurely ground his own dark hair against hers and let out a long sigh.

“I thought you’d clamp down like you were trying to sever me back then, when you were still a virgin.”

“Haah…!”

“But seeing you grip me like this again—enough to crush a man’s c**k—it seems you were born with a lewd c**t. Isn’t that right, Stepmother?”

The princess couldn’t answer. She could barely breathe, struggling to endure his shaft buried deep in her belly. Franz enjoyed the sight of her—head thrown back, tears streaming—immensely.

Without giving her any rest, he withdrew his hips and then slammed back in, as if stamping a seal.

“Aah!”

He gripped her trembling, delicate shoulders. Bending down to deepen the union, he thrust hard. Each time his blade-like c**k drove in and out, choked sobs burst from the princess’s lips.

After pounding her depths several times, he withdrew, deciding it was enough. His shaft, even more e***t than when he’d entered, gleamed wet with her slick. Franz licked his fingers clean with an expression of regret, then turned his head to the right.

“Surely this is sufficient for an examination.”

“Khh—mmph!”

“Now, Father.”

He smiled habitually as he addressed his father. With perfect filial courtesy, he said to Duke Brandt, still gagged and kneeling:

“It is time for you to confirm my stepmother’s chastity.”

Franz lifted Brunhilde’s limp thighs and pulled out the cloth he’d tucked beneath her b******s. He held the fluttering linen out toward his father. The white cloth bore only a faint smear of fluid from the brief act—no trace of blood.

“What do you make of the results, Father?”

“Mmph!”

“Unfortunately, it seems the new bride you brought in is not a chaste woman.”

“Mmph! Kkh—phuh!”

“Still, it is fortunate you discovered my stepmother’s impurity before consummating the marriage.”

At his feigned words of relief, Duke Brandt’s eyes bulged as if they might burst. The bloodshot veins made him look like a hellish beast.

As muffled screams continued to erupt, Franz nodded in understanding.

“I suppose it might be difficult for you to trust your son’s word without having seen the bride’s c**t for yourself.”

With that, he nodded toward his retainer. The subordinate, whose nose and mouth were hidden beneath a black mask, lifted Brandt again and placed him on the bed beside Brunhilde.

Franz looked down magnanimously.

“Now, I shall hold the lamp close, so you may see clearly.”

“Wh-what are you—hngh!”

“Your new wife’s opening—without a single drop of blood.”